


Regroup

by extremesoft



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, birthday present porn!, complete porn!, happy very sinful date of your birth D!, it's 3 and 33 and 3+33+? back at it again!, rejoice!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21729802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremesoft/pseuds/extremesoft
Summary: “We’d like to try-” Daniel starts and then his words seem to fail him, or maybe he didn't quite have them in his possession in the first place now that whatever they've planned is incarnating.--
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Michael Italiano/Daniel Ricciardo, Michael Italiano/Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Michael Italiano/Max Verstappen
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	Regroup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bonotje](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonotje/gifts).

> I am SCREAMING at myself for writing this and so quickly after posting the first chaotic horny mess about these three idiots, OH MY GOD :'DD (It's like, I'm writing filth but also totes blushing at my own filth, iahffjgh oh lordy.)
> 
> This is all absolutely solely bonotje's fault and I very much blame her for the sheer existence of this fic (no I didn't set the ball rolling in the first place, shush). They were in the conception that I was somehow teasing double penetration in _Reset_, which I bloody well wasn't (!) (not intentionally at least), and asked me to write that as well, with some mentions of cherries and topping and all that. I got down to some solid thinking and found it seemed like a delicious concept indeed, and I also remembered a certain birthday being right around the corner, and thus the cherries and topping and all that are exactly what's happened here now, I'm afraid. My career is taking turns I certainly never saw coming.
> 
> Archive warnings: there is no plot to be seen anywhere in the immediate event horizon of this text, no sir no madam no anything. This is basically just a humongous porn flick in worded form, starring promising new talents Danny Dic, the Dick-h Lion and, uh, Miggus Dickus. Ta-dah! (Ahh, I hope at least some of you have seen _The Life of Brian_ :'D)
> 
> With this blabber and the shameless merry smutfest below, however, I'd like to wish a **very happy birthday to bonotje**! Please don't kill me! ❤️ And to all others who end up reading this and thus overdosing on foreplay and asinine banter as well: I really sincerely do hope you enjoy the ride, as always - let me know if you do! ^__^ ❤️

“Y’ trust us?” asks a breathy voice from right behind Max’s ear. Perfect porn practice would most likely have been asking the question _before_ covering Max’s eyes instead of tying it around his head along with the blindfold; but the level of all-round eagerness is a constant as well as Max’s solid trust, both in _him_ and _them_. Max nods, his mouth twitches on its own accord as though the question had amused him. He hears unhurried, steady footsteps.  
“Of course.”

Someone sits down on the bed, judging by the distant rustling somewhere in front of him. All Max sees is black, no light filters through his eyelids as queer, smudged luminescence. The laminates under his feet feel chilly and the fingers that keep brushing the back of his head skilled, nimble.  
“Good, otherwise this’d be a shitload of awkward”, mutters the voice, low and slow with the one using it concentrating on finishing the double knot he has made.

It's most likely Daniel. Most likely.

"There", the voice concludes as the faint movement on the back of Max's head halts after one last firm tug. Sheer satisfaction drips from it and flows down Max's shoulder blades. "You should be seeing nice absolutely nothing now."  
"Correct", Max simply confirms. Darkness equals nothing, darkness equals all. There's a kiss on the nape of his neck, warm hands appear to caress his upper arms. His own breathing roars in his ears mindlessly loud and he can't help the dusting of sweat tickling his palms despite the arousal simmering beneath.

"No touching yourself.”

Max feels a chest pressing against his back, gently nudging him forward, pressure from the hands on his biceps. He's quick on the uptake and knows he's being led towards the bed - he's not an idiot, after all - but his first step still falters with his ever so slight disorientation. The hands on him make his skin fill with white noise.

"We’re not far", encourages the voice from behind his ear. A couple of idle, open-mouthed kisses on Max's trapeziuses, a drag of stubble contrasting the soft skin armouring them. The other hand floats from Max's arm to his hip, so _tempting_ and yet nowhere close enough.  
“I know where the bed is”, Max sneers. It might be mandatory for him to ever rebel, but his shaky breath pitilessly betrays his fraying self-containment. Fuck. He hears a hushed laugh from in front of him, _not far_.  
“You prob’ ly should. You’ve spent a good amount of time there, after all”, the voice mumbles into the crook of Max’s neck, making his skin erupt in gooseflesh and his cock twitch at it.

They stop still. Two breaths ring in Max’s ears as a corrupt choir, his own and the one serpenting around his throat. “We’re there now” is the only clue he’s given, but he decodes it excellently right and tentatively climbs onto the awaiting bed, arms and legs faintly jittery despite his best efforts in keeping his cool. He's met by a pair of guiding hands that pose him on his knees - strong, lithe fingers that in fact feel like Daniel’s, but they can’t be Daniel’s if Daniel was the one walking him here, right? - and someone then kneels behind him as well, clutching his hips to keep him in place.

Max sees nothing but the void of black, but he _feels_ them on either side of him now, front and back, the warmth that spreads and caves and buries him. He's still relatively convinced it's Daniel behind him and Michael that waited on the bed -

but God, they've made certain that Max can't be one-hundred percent sure at times, and it’s gently guiding Max towards heavenly insanity, _folie à trois_. It could be anyone and at the same time isn’t, laying their hands and devouring eyes on him.

There’s a second of rustling once more, and Max inevitably gasps when his cock is touched, slender digits furling around it with the daintiness of a mere wisp of air.  
“He’s all hard already”, mutters the someone on the bed with evident delight, clearly not talking to Max at all. Max instantly - and finally - recognizes the familiar rasp and gets punched by the realization that it’s Daniel in front of him with such force it almost makes his legs lurch. Shit, Daniel was the one with the blindfold in his hand when Max last saw him, when the hell did they switch places? How was he not able to tell their touches or voices apart better, no matter how light-weight both?

“Daniel”, Max heaves without thinking, instinctively trying to lean into him and exhaling heavily with Daniel’s first sluggish stroke gliding along his length. “I thought you were-”

He falls silent mid-sentence but the message is still louder and clearer than he’d perhaps prefer. Michael chuckles against his shoulder, tying an arm around his waist and amply grabbing his rear with his free hand.  
“Sounds like we pulled that one off perfectly”, Michael hums, proud and pleased, wrapping Max into that velvet-like cadence of his as well as his tight hold. 

Max’s mind runs wild and high and wanton. This is one of the best nuances of their ongoing little play; ever since Max had tentatively made it known what an impact Michael and Daniel’s likeness to each other had on him, they have indulged in utilizing it without reserve, making Max fall madly in love with the thrill of not always knowing exactly who’s touching and the titillating sense of _danger_ it involves. They’re not interchangeable, no, Daniel is not Michael and Michael is not Daniel, they’re just so-

Nevermind- Max switches to not being able to decide whether to sink backwards into Michael’s hold or snap his hips to sink his cock into Daniel’s mouth lightning fast when he feels the ample lick on his tip and his knees threaten to buckle. He can really do neither with Michael keeping him tightly in place and mewls in frustration, _more, Daniel, please_.

“Someone’s pretty excited”, Daniel mumbles foxily. He wraps his lips around Max’s cock and _God yes_ how in detail Max can feel every small move of Daniel’s tongue when he slides down Max’s length. Max tries to buck his rear, gasps loudly at the feeling of Daniel’s mouth around him and Michael jerking himself with slow tugs behind him, the back of his hand deliberately rubbing the cleft of Max’s ass.  
“Yes, Daniel”, Max whines, so pathetic already, fumbling blindly for Daniel’s hair and clenching it tightly. He can see it in high definition even with the blindfold on - how Daniel’s body jackknives when he bends to suck Max, parting his legs and grabbing his own cock at the same time, lazy pulls growing ever slicker with his own pre-

“Let go of his hair, Max”, Michael orders, hushed but stern. He lets go of his cock in his turn and allows it to fall lewdly against Max’s crack and lower back. “He might have his mouth too full to remind you not to touch, but mine still works.”  
“Michael-” Max tries but it gets cut short with Michael suddenly covering Max’s mouth with a scorching palm and pressing gently down. Max’s fingers instantly slacken as if a hex had been cast on him, every last drop of blood in his veins seems to hurry straight towards his lower abdomen. Holy-

“That’s better”, Michael nods approvingly. Daniel’s mouth leaves Max’s cock but Max barely registers it over the rush being blinded and now silenced by Michael sends through him. Max swears they could do anything to him and he’d treat it like a bestowal from the highest of heavens. It’s not hard for him to picture Michael’s desirous smile, and Daniel’s as well, pupils blown with lust as he takes the sight of them in.

“Now, I want you to open that mouth again”, Michael continues and slightly lifts his palm, his other hand leisurely traveling up and down Max’s stomach. “But just for my fingers, not any of your talking.”  
“Yes”, Max breathes, mouth left gaping after the stray word, in wait for something, anything, Michael, Daniel. Michael’s fingertips meet Max’s lower lip and Max’s tongue greets them with a bold lick like an invitation.

“Man, that’s so fucking sexy”, comments Daniel, clearly coiling his hand around Max’s cock again and making him involuntarily whimper with the touch. “I’ll have to remember that in case I ever need to make Max shut the hell up.”  
“Yeah, well”, Michael shrugs whilst hooking two digits into the wet heat welcoming them, exhaling sharply when Max puts in all the effort and rams his tongue against them. “You could always also- oh _shit_, that’s good- just gag him with your dick.”  
“I’ve actually tried that one already, y’ know, works most times.”

They fucking speak and laugh at their notions like Max had never been there to hear them. It’s so annoying and so _arousing_; but Max can’t even begin to think of a clever retort for when he isn’t busy sucking on Michael’s fingers before Daniel’s mouth surrounds his cock again. And Daniel has sucked him multiple times before, and Max has grown confident as for his own deep-throating abilities as well, but by _Gods_, when Daniel slides tormentingly slowly along the bridge of his shaft until his lips nearly circle the hilt, Max is ready to vow he’s got nothing on what Daniel feels like. He’s not sure whether being blinded enhances the effect, but every slight twitch of Daniel’s tongue against him now seems to resonate up his backbone as a wave that makes his head reel like never before, and the cavity engulfing him feels so tantalizing he could weep with the brunt of not thrusting. Michael’s fingers keep fucking Max’s mouth, Max tries to make sure to slick them up good, spit coating the corners of his mouth and on his chin.

“That’s good”, Michael whispers against the shell of Max’s ear. The fingers caress Max’s lips and vanish, leaving Max’s mouth filled with his own gasps at Daniel generously licking his cock instead. Max fights the urge to plead and beg but is destined to lose when he feels Michael’s hand on his crack again, knowing exactly what Michael’s aiming for, or at least thinking he does - there’s never a foolproof way of telling with them.

“Please, Michael”, Max keens, voice merely above a feeble whimper as he knows he’s asked to not speak; but he can’t help it, wanting them to just absolutely debase him already.  
“What was that?” Michael mocks, the spit-wet fingers pressing right between Max’s asscheeks and drawing unhurried, lucid lines up-down. Max grows ever more desperate, wanting to be able to spread his legs for Michael and at the same time wanting Daniel to suck him to the point of passing out.  
“Just- _please_”, Max tries again with his mind and senses hopelessly splintered by Daniel and Michael, hands flickering with the shackled will to touch as if agitated. He then opts for a wordless hint nevertheless and reaches behind his back to grab Michael’s right wrist. The movement causes Max to thrust into Daniel’s mouth almost by accident, making himself cry out and Daniel hum around his cock in amusement before retreating.

“I reckon Max might want you to do something about himself, mate”, Daniel tips, ever so helpful. Max can feel Daniel’s hands on his hips, slender and warm like always, and lavish kisses on his stomach. It never ceases to perplex him how different the levels of intimacy of the acts are, Daniel’s lips stretching around his cock versus Daniel’s lips pressing a kiss right next to his navel.  
“Bend him forward, pull him down”, Michael says as he clearly shifts backwards, sounding like nothing but merrily sly. “I wanna prep him for us a bit.”  
“‘kay, hold up, I’ll just-” Daniel starts and then pauses to shift. Max feels him snaking on the bed, the mattress dipping with his every move and making Max sway ever so slightly.  
“Spread your knees, Max”, Daniel ushers. “I want you on top of me.”

Max lets go of Michael and obeys the command like parting his thighs for Daniel was an intrinsic part of his nature (perhaps it is). Daniel threads his legs between Max’s and grabs his forearms tightly, and Max can feel himself being hauled steadily down. He has got no idea why Michael would say _us_ like that but he also doesn’t really give a toss as long as they make him break into fragments, scream with bliss on top of his lungs with his eyes tied and mind bare.  
“‘C’mere, Max, lay down”, Daniel soothes and slowly tumbles Max on top of him. Max’s forearms seem to come to rest right next to Daniel’s, on a sumptuous stack of pillows, and there’s an odd feeling of swelling and bursting in the very core of his chest at the feeling of Daniel’s breaths brushing his face. “Y’ can touch now, I’d like you to do that hair thing again.”

Max drags his hands across the bedding and grabs Daniel’s hair so tightly it makes Daniel hiss before their mouths collide. Having been disallowed to touch has only served to fuel the urge; Max’s fingers flex feverishly in Daniel’s raven curls, on his temples, behind his ears, anywhere he can reach. Daniel’s lips and mouth are wet, slightly swollen. Max can vividly imagine the pink hue they’re shaded with after blowing and kissing and he can _taste_ himself in a way he couldn’t have pictured, everything heightened by the blindness. Michael’s unruly palms travel down Max’s buttocks and Max can vaguely feel his arms wrapping around each thigh, undisputedly anchoring him.

“Guess I’ll have to do something other than kissing, then”, Michael mutters while spreading Max open - Max barely makes the words out with his head swimming and the meaning doesn’t fully reach his disjointed comprehension before Michael’s tongue already dips between his asscheeks and makes him moan right into Daniel’s mouth. Daniel returns the sound hungrily as if the rush of pleasure had ran through him as well as Max, fingertips biting into Max’s skin and leaving long red stripes behind as he decisively rakes them up Max’s back in sync with Michael edging his tongue up Max’s crack.

“We have so much plans for you, Max”, Daniel elates breathlessly, clawing along the curve of Max’s back over and over again. Max wishes he could buck his hips to rut against Daniel, his cock desperate for touch as well, but Michael’s hold of his thighs is too tight for him to move forward. Max leans back into Michael instead, trailing kisses along Daniel’s jaw, and tries to tend to his throat as well; then the smooth velvet of Michael’s tongue thrusts into him and he can only bury his face against Daniel’s chest, the inescapable passionate _fuck_ partly muffled by Daniel’s pectoral.

“We’ll get there”, Daniel hums contently like he’s of course _bound_ to do. Max would like to tell him to shut his idiotic pie hole, but can’t concentrate on forming even halves of thoughts with Michael’s tongue fucking him vehemently. It’s as if Michael was taking Max systematically apart, slowing his pace and slipping his tongue out just as Max’s breathing grows louder, more demanding. Max groans in grievance, something between a prayer and an animalistic cry of sheer craving. Michael spits and Max can feel the saliva running down his upper thighs before Michael plunges into him again and makes him writhe in both his and Daniel’s solid hold.

“You’re so bloody beautiful”, Daniel praises, biting and licking whatever parts he can reach of Max’s jaw and neck. “I’m gonna have to- tell Michael to save me some or I’ll bust it like this.”

Michael fucking _chuckles_ against Max’s ass, Max can feel the swift flow of air meeting his spit-stained skin.  
“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll leave him to you for the moment”, he assures care-freely. “I’ll get the lube.”

Michael is quick to uncoil his arms and hop off the bed, judging by the sharp bounce of the mattress. Max stays in position - he has got no say in anything, really, here he is Daniel’s and Michael’s to use as they please - but leans to kiss Daniel again, frenzied as if trying to make up for the contact momentarily lost, and can’t resist grinding against him. Their crotches slide against each other obscenely, slick and steel hard, and neither can help a spurious, loud groan, the sounds fusing with each other in their throats into a cocktail tasting of pure greed.

“Fuck- Max”, Daniel pants, clearly struggling to maintain control of himself. He grabs Max’s rear tightly and shamelessly steers him to repeat the movement, slowly, once, twice. Max would give every trophy he has ever won to be able to glimpse at Daniel, to see through the blindfold; but he can well picture the parted lips, ember eyes gleaming upon him with hunger, golden skin igniting with the rush of blood beneath it.

“I want to ride you”, Max heaves, feeling like he’s going to come all over Daniel’s stomach all too soon if they keep at it for much longer. It would be a gorgeous painting (as if it wasn’t already emblazoned right on the surface of Max’s memory by all the past times, pearly white lacing amber and honey); but not now, not _yet_.  
“Good, that’s exactly where we want you”, Daniel murmurs before catching Max into a devouring kiss once more.

The bed dips sharply on Max’s right side again as he straightens himself, indicating Michael having found what he set to find. He then hears the sounds of a sloppy, passionate kiss from below him, hitching breaths and eager tongues, and he feels like his sight-starved eyes themselves were begging to be let to witness the unfathomable beauty of it. They know full well he likes to watch them. To not let him must be one of their ways to taunt. Max reaches to touch himself, forced to settle for merely fantasizing about what’s right before him and tangible in reality; but he gets nowhere before the kiss comes to an audible halt and he’s rewarded for his misbehavior with a light swat to his wrist. 

“Stop teasing me”, Max whines, not out of true desire to get rid of the blindfold or the boundaries but rather as a reflex to his own illusory helplessness.  
“Teasing’s the whole bloody point”, Michael ribs, husky, letting Daniel breathe the words in. “What d’ you reckon, Dan, d’ you think we could let Max prep you a bit?”  
“I think we can trust him with that”, Daniel reasons. It’s certainly not hard for Max to imagine the mock-contemplation on Daniel’s face, his brow furrowing for a split second and less before his mouth collapsing into a grin and a laugh. Someone - Michael, most likely, if the feel of the decisive fingers grabbing him is anything to go by - takes Max’s hand and turns it palm up. The lube feels cool. Max can _sense_ Daniel's breath hitching with sheer excitement, the body between his thighs momentarily tensing.

"You know what to do, Max”, Michael spurs as he steers Max’s hand (kindly saving him from blind fumbling) until it touches Daniel’s cock. Max wastes no time in wrapping his slick-coated fingers around Daniel’s shaft, drawing hissed curses out of him and making his spine slither into an upward bow. It’s all ten times lewder when all Max has to go by is touch, sound; the contours of Daniel’s veins blending with those of his joints, their heavy breaths soaring above the bed and through the ceiling.

“I want you inside me”, Max splutters, to both of them, to not anyone in particular. He wants to be fucked apart, Daniel feels so good in his hands but Daniel diving into him would be so much _better_ still. He swiftly imagines them taking turns - Daniel, Michael, Daniel, Michael, endless endless ravaging until he’d collapse onto the bed finished and sore and nothing but _mirthful_.  
“Suit yourself”, Daniel grins - he must be grinning, beast-like glee setting his features on fire and seeping into his voice as he takes a meek hold of Max’s hips. Max lifts himself and shifts forward, faintly registering the jostling on his right side as Michael moves too. There’s a hand on Max’s back, lips on his shoulder and then on his neck.  
“You two first”, Michael quips before catching Max in a spurious, brief kiss. “We’ll go slow on you.”  
“What do you mean?” Max finally asks against Michael’s mouth, breathy. He can imagine the devious glances Michael and Daniel exchange right after that as Michael’s breath moves away from his face, and his heart skips steps of its assigned choreography all of a sudden. _Oh._

“We’d like to try-” Daniel starts and then his words seem to fail him, or maybe he didn't quite have them in his possession in the first place now that whatever they've planned is incarnating. His hands circle up and down Max's thighs, right below his hip bones.  
"We wondered if y’ could, y' know. Kinda handle us both, at the same time. Inside you. Y' take me first and then Michael, uh, joins in on the fun.”

It's a wonderful juxtaposition of reactions that awakens inside Max. On the other hand, his eyes _do_ widen comically behind the cloth they're hidden with and his mouth _would_ gape if he didn't carefully make sure it doesn't. It must hurt like a bitch, there's no doubt about that. Then again, he actually finds himself quite un-surprised, and the first true question he asks from himself is, to his own amazement, the one concerning why the hell the two haven't suggested this earlier already. They seem imaginative and like they've studied their porn, after all. (And to top the cake, Daniel suddenly fumbling with his words like a horny yet hideously sheepish teenager entertains Max infinitely and is in itself already enough to make him relent. Not to mention how hot the concept sounds too.)

"We really don't have to, if you think it's too much", Michael elaborates after reading the second of pondering splendidly wrong, his hand drawing idle patterns on Max's hip. Max tries to picture him biting his lip in uncertainty. "Or we can save it for some other time if you'd like to think about it further."  
"No, I want it", Max says, unmoved, and lets his mouth spread with a cunning smile. "I trust you guys. I trust you with my life, so- yeah, why wouldn't I trust you with my ass."

The laughter that bellows in the bedroom for a moment is something far from the usual soundtrack of erotica, but it has really never been anything if not bad jokes and what can only be called cheerful pornography with Daniel and Michael anyway.  
"You're bloody awesome", Michael touts affectionately before shackling Max with a lusty kiss. "Honestly, you have no idea. We're going to be real good to you because you're so fucking good for us."  
"I told you it'd be pretty damn mind-blowing with Max, didn't I", Daniel sniggers and gives Max's balls a rough rub, drawing a hitched sigh out of him. "C'mon, babe, let's get goin' if you’re ready."

Michael still keeps his hand on Max's hip when Max takes a light hold of Daniel's cock again (having effortlessly found it, what with it sticking against his thigh hard and hungry). The touch feels empowering, somehow - as if Max had never ridden Daniel before, of course he has, but not blinded and about to take two cocks at once at some not too distant stage.  
"Ride me, Max", Daniel encourages again, caressing Max's thighs and cock with uncoordinated, long strokes. "We're going to be _gold_."

Max steers the crown right to his hole, aided by Michael sloppily parting his cheeks with one hand (and most likely jerking himself with the other, considering the quiet sounds and heavy breathing). He angles himself, impales himself, crowns himself; and Daniel is so slick that besides the initial sting and momentary shock of Max's muscles, there's not much resistance hindering them. Max slides down, steadily down, both Daniel's curses and praises ringing lusciously in his ears. He doesn't let himself fill to the brim yet, snapping up and then going slowly down again, and again, lower and deeper and lower and deeper, willing his body to open wide.  
"Fuck, Max, you feel so fucking good", Daniel stutters, hips swaying impatiently to Max's movements. "So good, you're gonna- have to be slow or I'll come before Michael gets anywhere."

Max stops with Daniel all the way inside him (takes a fucking effort to simply _stop_ like that) and looks down, not really seeing anything but still being perfectly able to view the parted lips, sweaty curls, eyes glimmering with mist. Michael breathes roughly next to him, every exhale a wordless wish.

"Or then we just take Michael along", Max says, clear-cut like always and dizzy with rut-like thirst for it. “I want you both.”  
“It’ll prob’ly be hell first”, Michael winces. He doesn’t shift yet, and there’s something about the tenderness metastasizing in the domination that makes Max’s chest swell with how badly he wants him, too. He’s a mixture of silk and steel inside and out. “We’ll start slow, m’ kay?”  
“Yeah, I know”, Max nods, as if calming Michael in his turn. Michael kisses his neck right below his ear and whispers _lay on top of Dan_ before moving. Max bends down, torso pressing flush against Daniel’s, Daniel’s cock stirring his insides and making his breathing shallow.  
“You are fucking amazing”, mutters Daniel as he enfolds Max’s in his hold and plants endless, fleeting pecks on his temple. And no matter how many times Daniel has told Max exactly that, in exactly the same words, it’s never ceased to elevate him, perhaps even more so now when he’s shared Max with Michael and Michael with Max.

(Max doesn’t quite know where lust becomes love and love thaws into lust again, but does it really matter with _either_ of them?)

Michael’s hand lands on Max’s lower back, kind yet firm. His tip skims up Max’s crack as if hovering on a doorstep, asking for permission.  
“Fucking hell, it’s gonna be tight”, he swears to himself, so low a grumble it barely breaches through Max’s haze at all. “‘kay, I’ll-”  
“_Yes_”, Max hisses to himself, dragging his teeth along the curvature of Daniel’s collar bone before propping his forehead against it-

-!

The initial ache is not far from unimaginable - Max has of course tried to tell himself it would hurt like a motherfucker, despite all the lube, from the first moment Daniel asked him whether he’d take it, but it’s still nothing he could’ve ever truly prepared for. His breaths break apart into pathetic whimpers, for a moment nothing gets into his lungs, he tries to follow the rhythm of Daniel’s chest repeatedly crashing against his but hopelessly fails with his diaphragm seemingly short-circuiting for good.

“_Fuck!_”, Michael hisses, hardly in, clearly restless with the raw _need_ to go further; but he stops to let Max catch his breath, fingertips burying deep into his hips as though trying to keep him still and conscious. “Fuck, it’s-”  
“Can y’ take it?” Daniel pants, running his fingers through Max’s hair and down his sides over and over again like soothing him. “You’re a stubborn prick, but you’ve got to tell us if it hurts too much.”  
“It doesn’t.” Max does feel like he’s burning down to embers, being ripped in two and four and ten, but all the more he feels like he’ll promptly die if Michael doesn’t continue. “Just-”

“D’ you want the blindfold out of the way?” Daniel asks then, his hands coming to stop on the back of Max’s neck, chest wrenching.

Max can’t think. He can barely breathe. For a moment the longing to _see_ Daniel’s heat-gilded eyes instead of only picturing them clenches him so tight the pain of it almost overrides the one gradually ebbing into taut pulsation. But then it eases too, and he finds himself strangely willing to take everything they’re giving exactly like it’s given and let himself be taken exactly like they’re willing to take.  
“No”, he says and flashes a drunken smile, or at least he thinks he does; his whole body feels blurred as well as aflame. “I know what you look like.”

Daniel and Michael chuckle at him almost simultaneously and it causes them all to involuntarily shift to the jolt, with the two stirring inside Max and Max gasping at the sweet, slick torment, high off it.  
“Please, don’t stop-”  
“Real slow, we’ll go real slow”, Michael hushes before carefully pushing - it’s still right on the threshold of too much, right on the brink of impossible, but hypnotizing above all. Michael’s low _Jesus, so goddamn tight_ blends with Max’s cry and Daniel’s curses.  
“It fucking is”, Daniel echoes, sounding as blissfully intoxicated as Max feels. “Never felt- like this, you _both_ feel- so fucking hot.”

“Max, can I- I’m almost there.” Michael sounds desperate now, scarcely able to maintain control of himself and fight back the urge to thrust with everything he’s got. “Almost there.”  
“Yes, yes”, Max chokes through the strain, rendered void of all else but his dissipating want. Daniel wraps his arms around his shoulders as Michael’s final sluggish advance forces an agonized wail out of Max’s system, Max feels filled to the edge and over, and Michael’s ragged grunts rain over his back and hips.  
“We’re there”, Michael winds then, all of a sudden, out of air and somehow sounding tenuously unbelieving. “That’s it- Max, we’re- _Dan, fuck_.”  
“Y’ okay, Max?” Daniel puffs into Max’s ear, hoarse and clutching him like trying to prevent him from drifting into space from the surface of the Earth. 

Max can do nothing but try and breathe for an odd second, mouth hanging open against the curve of Daniel’s neck and inevitably staining it with drops of drool. The image of Daniel and Michael staring at each other over his shoulder - dark eyes infinite mirrors of bewilderment and lust, the unthinkable intimacy of the way they’re all melting into each other overcoming them - swims in and out of his clouded mind. He feels so high on them both, jealous of them being able to look yet somehow _paramount_ in a way that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. He is theirs- no, somehow they’re all each other’s, Max owns parts of them as well, even when blinded and snapped in two.

“Yeah”, he rasps once he’s somewhat settled into the situation, as if having fallen out of a trance. He tilts his head to nuzzle Daniel’s throat. “Please- move.”  
“You’re a bloody miracle”, Daniel marvels and coaxes Max into a zealous kiss, full of tongue and shameless, naked desire.  
“We’ll go easy”, Michael murmurs from above them and shifts - every move of his feels tenfold with him being lodged so tightly inside and against the wet swelter of both Max and Daniel, and it makes Max whine into the kiss, eventually biting his teeth down into Daniel’s lower lip and making him flinch before parting from him.  
“C’mere, gimme those hands”, Daniel says and uncoils his arms from around Max. The heat from Michael’s abdomen radiates against Max’s back as he bends, body arching above Max’s as the most graceful of cupolae, and the rustling of Michael and Daniel’s fingers lacing in-between each other on the pillow makes him inhale sharply with how _unearthly_ it must look.

“We’ll go easy”, Michael repeats and gives Max’s shoulder a light kiss. “‘kay, Dan?”  
“‘kay”, Dan doubles, in both confirmation and emboldenment. Max can seemingly feel every minuscule movement the smallest of Daniel's muscles make when his hips twitch and slowly rise from the mattress with the first tentative thrust, and he hits such a spot when squeezed practically right against Max’s prostate it makes Max nearly sob.  
“_Fuck_, it’s tense- fuck”, Daniel gasps in apt response, arms and sides tensing with the pleasurable burden. “Y’ good, Max?”  
“Yeah- don’t stop, please don’t stop”, Max pleads shakily, fully sunk into the rapture of being gradually taken apart by them, again. “More.”  
“I’ll- _Dan_, holy shit”, Michael heaves, whatever it was he first intended to say disintegrating as Daniel moves again, a tad more confident this time. Max feels every word trembling against his back, warm and weightless. “I’ll try-”

If the initial ache of Michael pushing into him - or merely nudging his tip against Daniel's cock first to try and accompany him - had been unimaginable, the euphoria of their first joint plunge is still on a level of high of its own. It's all clumsy at first, uneven, searching for a rhythm to call its own; but once the tempo grows steadier (though still sluggish), the sleek hardness of them both, the forceful stretch and their breaths going back and forth in sync with the moves of their hips takes Max into ecstasy he can make no end nor beginning out of. Daniel's cock leans tight against his prostate and rubs it with their every move, and it's building something inside Max he has never quite felt, as if his fever had spread into his very bones and replaced the marrow in them, leaving them to burn and char. He might be cursing and begging, he might not be, he's in a senseless high of wafting outside of his body while at the same time wholly immersed in the dance of not only his own flesh but also Daniel and Michael's.

"Fuck, Max", Daniel pants, clearly battling the urge to speed up, having had his cock inside Max for so long already making his mounted arousal threaten to overflow. "I wanna-"  
"Yes, you can", Max interrupts, reading him right even through the blindfold still separating their gazes. "I'm not- I'm not far."  
"Me neither", Daniel grunts before tensing beneath Max with his determined thrust. It makes Max hiss but he tries to rut his arse back as a voiceless hint to both Daniel and Michael alike.  
"Faster", Max chokes all the same as emphasis. "_Faster_."

Daniel and Michael comply as one, hanging in the infinitesimal space between spark and fire before giving in. Quicker, louder, their harmony dismantling step by step yet Max being so far gone he doesn't care for as long as they drown him into his own delirium in the end. His climax silently climbs closer to his core, up his legs and veins in the insides of his thighs, pinpointing in his abdomen and making him shake. He's going to- fuck- blinded, _untouched_, thighs soaked halfway down with lube and slick, all over Daniel-

Daniel's whole body throes beneath Max and goes rigid, and his orgasm and his wail both vibrate through Max and force him along, below the waves. He spills over Daniel's stomach, pearly white lacing amber and honey exactly like in his head, Michael still fucking into him. There's odd placidity to it then, almost, Michael's hips snapping fervently and muted curses flowing through his lips in an endless stream whilst Daniel and Max already hang spent on the precipice of the comedown, Daniel involuntarily slipping out of Max and gasping at the vulgar feeling himself. But it's not long at all before Michael growls and bites his teeth deep into Max's shoulder as he's seized and then cast into oblivion by his own peak. He pumps into Max with a couple more lazy moves still, giving his all to the last drop before retreating with an exhausted grunt. Max can feel his muscles still clenching around nothing, pained and raw, the already drenched feeling crowned with the seemingly obscene amount of come calmly trickling out of him and down his buttocks. 

"Fucking hell", Daniel pants, hands on Max, everywhere he can reach. There's unwieldy scrambling behind them again as Michael climbs off Max, clumsy and quivering. The halo of his heat suddenly withdrawing from Max's makes Max shiver weakly, the faint breeze of air on his sweaty back feeling ruthless like a gale.  
"Agreed, mate."  
"I'll take the blindfold off", Daniel mutters again while his fingers are already wrestling with Michael's impeccable knots, clumsy and quivering as well. Max still lies limp on top of him and wonders whether his seemingly thousand-folded weight is crushing Daniel's ribs and lungs to pulp. He should roll off Daniel, he really should, but his limbs are thoroughly void of strength and the need to cling to _someone_ \- to someone's pulse and breath and the lulling rush of their blood - makes him buzz with something bordering on hysteria.

"C'mere, Max", someone says then from beside Max and wraps a solacing arm around his waist. "I got you. If you just can roll off Dan and to your side, I'll open the knot."

Afterwards Max is quite certain it's more Michael's doing than his own that he's eventually towed off Daniel, his rigorously cultivated muscles now feeling like nothing but a useless pile of dough. He drops onto his side next to Daniel, one arm draped on Daniel's heavily waving stomach. Michael plasters himself onto Max and practically tears the blindfold open with one hand once he's grown frustrated enough with his own inconveniently good knot-making skills. The lights around them have all been dimmed, but they still seem to brutally attack through Max's eyelids now that his shield is gone, and he can't gather the energy nor the courage to face them just yet. He disappears into the rhythm of Michael's breathing instead for a moment, his chest merging with Max's back and the mellow air of his softly whispered sweet nothings entwining Max's neck.

"Hi there", greets a kind voice from in front of Max then. Max fights his eyes slightly open and meets Daniel's; and it's strange, he thinks, that he has looked Daniel in the eye so many times he can portray the gaze to the last detail in his head yet never come anywhere close to the reality of it shining upon him. Max thinks of saying something back, but his uncooperative mouth only produces a dreamy _mhmm_ at first.  
"Wow", Daniel beams and looks at Michael over Max's shoulder. "Holy shit."  
"You said it, mate", Michael agrees, and their short-lived, weary sniggers vibrate through Max as a mild current of warmth.

Daniel lifts his hand and cards his fingers through Max’s damp hair. Max is nothing but happy to get lost into the delicate touch cradling him, so different from- well, pretty much everything else so far, no matter how careful they’ve been.  
"Crikey. Y' alright, Max?"  
"Yeah", Max croaks, his speaking abilities reluctantly starting to return to him.

”Y’ trusted us with both your life and ass, right”, Daniel recalls with a marvelously joyous grin on his face, his hand still resting atop Max's head. “But I reckon you’re going to be so sore after this it’ll take a while before you let us anywhere near before that ass part again.”  
“It’s alright”, Max shrugs drowsily, mouth curving as he inescapably catches Daniel's glee. “It’s not that bad.”  
“I’ll give your ass a nice little massage later, in case it’d help”, Michael chortles, and their laughs blanket them for the short-lived moment of sprawling across the bed in a lethargic yet jolly heap.


End file.
